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Jan 2010
Swing my phallus,
a lame attempt to keep balance on this spinning rock.
Better ruled by short stick then take stock in anything serious.
mind shut move forward
what we can't see certainly can't hear us.
Only an ******* pumps fists
This abashed soul lumps his blame on the short comings of others.
Disdain, a fort built from pillows and covers
tumbles under the absent look given by scorned lovers...

I picked a rose
pricked a finger
now my love is left to linger with thoughts of red blood
all because I was too impatient to grasp it
a casket lies in reserve for this paper soul
it doesn't take a fool to see that penciled trees won't grow
so here i stand thumb up head down
gratuity, a hole filled with water and rubish
forms beauty in this mind an oil rainbow doth permiss

But thats just it
a shimmer, a sheen
that gleam a thin slice of cold metal
the only rebuttal a reflection, depth shallow
if mirrors speak no lies pull thIs finger out of a hat
devise an angle to cut glass which speaks truth
not crap, or a whacked crack at fact.
A fallacy presented forms false return
allows me repentance from all that i've learned.

Solace in dreams?
a world of things
which feints refuge, gives refuse and meddles
muddied the sleep sought to steal from the night
replaced it with fists, your form, and a fight
a plight is where i stand to sit
despite the case i planned to rip
Eyes turn to days distracted thoughts juggled
nights turned to pains, sore throats, bloodied knuckles

Upside down
or inside out?

... to be continued

-2010
Matthew David Kispert
Written by
Matthew David Kispert  Cleveland
(Cleveland)   
723
   JR Macfadden
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